Forever
by SolitaryHeart01
Summary: War always brings terrible consequences. After a surprise-attack, France is surrounded with nothing but death and destruction. When he tries to find his precious little angel in the ruins of the city he comes across a sight he never wished to see. It seems like the only thing that could med his shattered heart now is a miracle... (France x child!Canada)


**Forever **

France x child!Canada

The battle had ended. The war was far from over but this bloody combat was. France's eyes traveled over what was left of what was once a beautiful French town. Now all that remained were piles of stone and ashes. His soldiers' bodies were scattered everywhere, crimson red pools were the only color left in the ruins. He staggered forwards, unable to tear his gaze away from the lifeless eyes staring back at him. His heart was racing; he could feel every uneven beat against his ribcage. He looked hysterically around, trying to find the person that was making drown in worry. "Why would I bring him here? We're at war dammit, what was I thinking... what was I thinking..." his mind raged as his pace picked up. He should have expected an attack; he should have left him with his brother where he was safe. Now the little boy was somewhere in the rubbles, scared, hurt maybe even−. He stopped himself there. This wasn't the time to think like this. He needed to find him... _now_. "CANADA!" he screamed, trying his best not to look at the dead bodies scattered around like ragdolls. The repugnant smell of blood filled his nose, making him sick. He couldn't even start to imagine how the little country was feeling. He was so small, so innocent... Francis shook his head roughly as he continued moving forwards. "CANADA! MATTHEW! ANSWER ME!" he shouted again, only to be answered by the heavy silence. The sound of bombs exploding and gun shots still echoed in his mind, along with the small voice of his little Canada saying "Please come back France..." His heart lurched painfully at the words that repeated themselves like a broken record, pushing him towards his house where he had left Canada, thinking he would be safe. How stupid he now realized. His feet stopped moving suddenly and the blonde man realized he had reached the ruins of the street he used to live in. Swallowing the lump in his throat he forced himself to look closely at each building, shivering as he saw all the death and destruction, even this far within the city. Smoke from extinguished fires steamed up towards the clouds, along with the many souls that would be going to the heavens. War was so cruel. "CANADA, ANSWER ME! CANADA!" he yelled into the empty street again. He walked past a few other houses, trying not to look at the corpses lying in them. He took another deep breath. "CA—" he started but never finished as the small country's name caught in his throat at the sight in front of him.

It was his own house. The one he was so used to coming back to everyday, once standing tall now left to nothing but a broken pile of stones. His small garden of roses was no more; only rosy petals proved it ever existed. They were scattered everywhere, blown by the icy breeze to sit on the rumbles, just waiting to be taken further away. France felt a numbing pain surge trough his entire body at the sight. No this wasn't happening... if he closed his eyes it would all just be a nightmare and he would wake up with Canada at his side, like he always had. France shook his head violently, pinched his arm and opened his eyes again, only to find that same terrifying sight ahead. "Please be okay Canada... please just be okay..." he whispered as he broke into a run, heading directly home. As he neared the building however, he was brutally hit by a flash back.

_France was running home. He had been gone for weeks and he missed the familiarity of his house and the warm smiles and hugs of the child he held so dear in his heart, Canada. As he turned the corner into his street, he saw a tiny figure sitting on the front porch of the traditional French house. The boy wore his usual white nightgown and plucked away the petals of a rose one, by one. A sad look was on his face and the little boy looked like he had been crying with the slight red puffiness in his eyes. "CANADA!" France called in delight, waving his hand high in the air. The child's head shot up immediately at the sound of his voice, a surprised look plastered on his face. France slowed as he neared the house, taking a second to catch his breath. He didn't need to keep running however, as Canada shot to his feet and rushed to him as fast as his little legs could carry him. France opened his arms wide and caught the smaller country in a warm embrace and kissed his tear-stained cheek affectionately. "I'm home, Canada..." _

Canada wasn't at the porch. He wasn't picking petals off a rose and he wasn't waiting patiently for him to come home. Francis knew he only had himself to blame for it. If he had not insisted for Canada to come back, if he had just waited a little bit longer, until the war was over, maybe that would have been the way things would have went. He would be coming back and Canada would be there, sitting on the front steps of England's home, playing with America, or picking off flower petals again. But he screwed up, he told England to bring Canada back, if only for a few days. Despite the warnings that France was still at war and it wouldn't be safe for Canada, France's selfishness had gotten in the way and now he paid the price for it. A high price that shouldn't have been taken out upon the only one he cared about. "Canada...?" he breathed, unable to lift his voice above a quiet whisper. His heartbeat was racing, not from his sprint but out of fear and panic. "Answer me please..." he begged, searching through the ruins with his eyes. Suddenly something caught his attention and he moved towards it.

It would have been the living room. France remembered Canada sitting by the window in the morning, watching the sun rise as he played with the red and pink roses in a vase that sat on the table. Now the only thing visible was that very table, broken into pieces and a tiny hand, sticking out from under a stone...

His eyes widen. _No! _his mind screamed as he dashed forwards, pushing the heavy rock away from the motionless hand. There he was. The child he had been protecting for so long now laid like an abandoned puppet in the dirt, cold and unmoving like the countless bodies he had passed by before reaching him but this was different. It felt like his heart was slowly being ripped apart, bit by bit. Pink petals rested on the child's body, their color stained to match the pool of thick liquid he was lying in. His once white nightgown was covered in it, it seemed like it was all pouring out of his quickly paling body like a deadly river. No words could express France's fear. His shaky hand approached the boy's wavy blonde hair that was now stained with the blood. _This cannot be happening. _"C-Canada?" he choked out, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. _I screwed up... _The child didn't move as his bruised hand made contact with his freezing cold cheek. _I'm so sorry_ It took every ounce of self-control France had to restrain from bursting into tears. Why did this happen to his Canada?! He should have been the one to be dying, motionless in the ruins of this city, by his own mistake. Not him. Not his little angel. "Please... wake up Canada... y-you can't die...not now... n-not like t-this..." he murmured, shaking the young country's body ever so gently. Canada didn't move, his eyes didn't flutter open even if he desperately wanted them to. As a single rumble of thunder echoed from the skies, a heartbroken cry ripped from France's throat as he faced the harsh truth. Canada was gone. Picking up the limp body, he cradled the small country in his arms and pressed him against his chest, sobs racking through his body. The tears that streamed freely down his cheeks landed on the top of Canada's head, washing away the blood with salty drops. "C-Canada don't g-go..."

Violet eyes stared down at the scene with sadness and worry. The small transparent hand squeezed the Grim Reaper's bony one and the shinigami looked down at the child. "You know your choices, child" he spoke, his voice deep and menacing like the roar of thunder. "Either you come and go see your parents in the afterlife or you go back and stay with him" the shinigami pointed at the broken down man below. "In either choice, your destiny will be altered for eternity. Choose wisely Canada" he finished, his twisted scythe shinning. The little blonde seemed to have understood how serious the matter was because he immediately feel in a thoughtful silence. The calm remained for a few more minutes before his quiet voice broke the silence once more. "I have one question Mr. Shinigami" The Grim Reaper waited patiently as Canada's eyes traveled up to him. "If I go back, will I be with France forever?" he asked, his big eyes now travelling back down to the crying man. The Grim Reaper took a moment to respond. "I don't know child" the shinigami answer finally, not taking his black eyes off the horizon. "But it seems like time has run out. You must make your choice now." "Well, going back to mom and dad was what I always wanted... and I won't live with the fear of being alone again..." Canada thought out loud and the ghost of a smirk lifted the corners of the shinigami's mouth. He knew what came next. "But despite that... I want to go back! I want to be with France forever!" Canada decided his voice loud and clear. The confidence ringing in it proved the pack was sealed. "You made a choice with your heart and for that, I will go by it" the Grim Reaper almost smiled as he let go of Canada's small hand. "Farewell child. I will see you again... someday." And with that he pushed the boy through the open door of life and back down to Earth.

France didn't know for how long he'd just been crying, hugging Canada but any feeling was next to gone. He was numb. He thought of letting it all go when suddenly he felt a small movement in his arms. Looking down in shock, he almost tried pushing down the hope rising in his broken heart. It was impossible, it couldn't be... "F-France?" a quiet voice asked and France's heart burst with happiness. A familiar pair of violet eyes stared up at him as two little hands tugged at his military uniform. "France... y-you're home..." Canada whispered in a hoarse voice, a small smile on his lips. The tears that rolled down France's cheeks weren't ones of sorrow anymore, but ones of joy. "Canada!" he cried, hugging the boy again as he let happiness envelope him. Canada was alive. He felt whole again. Canada's small arms wrapped around his neck as he let France's warmth comfort his frightened heart. Everything was going to be okay. After a while, France pulled away slightly to gaze directly into Canada's bright eyes. "Yes Canada, I'm home...and I'm never leaving you again."


End file.
